


Godling of War

by emanthony



Series: Mistletoe [1]
Category: God of War (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 04:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15380412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emanthony/pseuds/emanthony
Summary: Atreus, fully grown and on his own, has been keeping a secret from his father. The secret decides to reveal himself to Kratos, mid-battle, by saying:"Your son tastes like a sun-ripened grape. Did his mom beg to be fucked too?"





	Godling of War

**Author's Note:**

> http://oakantony.tumblr.com  
> @oakantony
> 
> I plan to write a series of grown, gay Atreus and the various misadventures he finds himself in. There'll be cameos from your favorites: Kratos, Freya, Brok and Sindri. And there will be plenty of OCs, too, because I just don't ship him with anyone in canon. Gotta fix that.

“Hello, Kratos. Your son tastes like a sun-ripened grape. Did his mom beg to be fucked too?”

Yonmun struck Kratos in the gut during the very brief moment he had stood in shock, his eyes seeking his son, Atreus, from across the empty, grassy plane.

Kratos was an enormous man--with a red tattoo winding over his form, emphasizing the curve of his muscular arms, the round shape of his head, highlighting the red and gray of his square beard--but Yonmun’s punch had sent him soaring high into the midday sun nevertheless. A stone glinted in the cuff Yonmun wore. He’d been given strength enough to even best a god.

Kratos crashed back into the earth with a crack that rattled Atreus’ bones, and Yonmun struck him again. And again. Atreus’ swift, small feet moved long before his mind, which was playing in an echo: _did this elf reveal to his dad that he not only desired men, but had gleefully bottomed for him, too?_

Atreus was by far one of the most intelligent of the pantheon--not much of a bragging right, considering the stupidity that littered the gods and godlings of the world--and still, he hadn’t seen it coming.

Yonmun was a half light elf and half human man, with lily white skin and hair, taller even than Kratos, and he had saved Atreus from a rather undesirable fate weeks earlier, when he had fallen prey to an elaborate ancient trap deep in a mine of Midgard. How many weeks--how many months--had he been watching Atreus, waiting for a moment to prove himself worthy of trust?

And Atreus hadn’t given into Yonmun’s flirtations easily after the rescue, no, knowing that his romantic nature was something of a weakness. Atreus yearned for love, and yearning for anything was strictly forbidden. But of course Yonmun hadn’t meant to do Atreus harm, and Atreus knew it: he would have seen Yonmun’s ill intention if it’d been directed his way. It was one of his powers of foresight. Yonmun’s wrath was directed elsewhere, and Atreus was a means to an end. A means to vengeance. And so finally a week after the rescue, he let Yonmun kiss him when they were alone, in the quiet of a wood, a campsite set out for them alone. Yonmun corded hands through Atreus’ long red hair, stroked fingers along the freckles of his tanned skin, pressed his lips to Atreus’ small, upturned nose.

Even then, after they’d kissed and Yonmun promised much more, Atreus hadn’t let Yonmun have him for days. What a terribly long time to sit in wait. Atreus wouldn’t’ve had the patience to lie for all that time, and he was a master of it. The calculations stank of Odin, as did the whole elaborate plan, but surely Odin didn’t know of Atreus’ preferences. Surely? Why would the Allfather know Atreus desired men? _How_ would he know?

Atreus should have seen it; if not from the sight he’d been gifted by the Giants, but from the way Yonmun behaved in the quiet moments they talked of family. Yonmun had been left an orphan and this quest for vengeance, which he'd talked of with quiet fury, meant to do the same to Atreus. Yonmun meant to wreck him, destroy the last of Atreus' family, even after spending the night in his bed, whispering words of worship at the curve where his thigh met ass.

And Atreus wasn’t sure what was more humiliating: his father learning of his sexual proclivities so suddenly, without finesse, or his father witnessing one of Atreus’ more spectacular failures of common sense. He pressed all of his humiliation into the perfect tick of his bow and the arrow struck true through Yonmun’s heart, blue and charged with the light of Alfheim, the realm of elves. Yonmun screamed until a second arrow pierced him through the throat. He collapsed, dead, atop Kratos.

Atreus rushed forward, shoving the body to the side. “Father.”

Kratos was quiet as he stood again. He was taller than Atreus by a hand, even with Atreus at a quarter century’s age, and so he looked down at him. Atreus, as ever, felt small. He always felt small in the shadow of his dad. “I expected better of you, boy.”

Atreus thought he might die, overwhelmed with shame and fear and self-loathing. A long silence stretched between them. He couldn’t respond; his throat felt tight, cut off.

Kratos’ jaw ticked. “Atreus. I mean only that you must recognize when a man means to use your status, your family, for his benefit.” A stilted pause before he added, turning away, “You cannot blindly trust men. Or women.”

Or women. It was a question, even if Kratos didn’t really ask questions.

“Just men,” Atreus said, and he managed to keep his voice from sounding as tiny as he felt.

Kratos grunted, and Atreus, gifted in all the languages of the world, knowing all the sounds that his father made, could easily translate: _I understand._

Atreus felt the emotion well up in his throat. “It won’t happen again, father.”

“See that it doesn’t. And do not hide yourself from me, boy.” Kratos began to walk away, dirt crunching beneath each step. Atreus watched him for a moment. And then the combined humiliation of his outing and the hypocrisy of his father culminated at once with an indignant scoff.

“You’re one to talk, you know,” he said, skipping forward until they were side to side. “It’s not like you’re particularly forthcoming with your life. I’ve learned more about you from etchings in the Journals of Fate than I ever have from your own word.”

Kratos exhaled, which translated to something like, _do as I say and not as I do._

“And I’m not just your child. I haven’t been _just_ your child for a long time, father. I don’t answer to you. Or anyone, for that matter.”

Kratos slid his eyes over without turning his head; a narrowed look of warning. “If the secrets you keep at night come hunting me in the day, then you will answer for it, and you will answer to me.”

Atreus threw his hands up. “I haven’t told you about this because you don’t need to know. When were you going to tell me about all the brothels you’ve visited, hm? There’s been more than one account of you getting your way through sex with several _different_ goddesses--is that a detail you’d ever planned to share? Do you even know how many women you’ve slept with?” Kratos stopped walking and so Atreus swung around to face him head on, tilting up on his feet to put them closer to eye and eye.

Kratos’ mouth thinned into a line. “You aren’t listening. I don’t care for details about who or what you take to bed. What I am asking is that you don’t hide yourself from me out of fear or shame, Atreus.”

Translated: _I’m trying only to say that love you, no matter your sexual proclivities._

Atreus said, “Oh.” He felt the color fill his face. Embarrassment had made him stupid. One last blow from Yonmun, it’d seem. “Right.”

Kratos walked around him and continued forward, to the river that held the boat they would take home--Atreus was visiting for a little while, before he was off again to help acquire more tomes for a library being built in the far reaches of Midgard. 

It was maybe an hour later, as they sat swaying in the boat as it coasted along the water, before Kratos asked, feigning an aloofness that was pitiful: “These Journals, with details about me. And goddesses. Where have you found them?”

Atreus propped his chin up in his hand, the boat swaying to and fro, his loose auburn hair catching the breeze. He grinned, teeth white, canines sharp. “I’ve destroyed them all. You don’t need to worry.”

“Not worried.” And a grunt.

Translation: _thanks, though._

**Author's Note:**

> http://oakantony.tumblr.com  
> @oakantony


End file.
